


Remix

by eyemeohmy



Category: DarkWing Duck - Fandom, DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Cosplay, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, LARPing, M/M, Roleplay, Smut, art included
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22458124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: Launchpad and Drake engage in a little LARPing, because they are dorks madly in love. But mostly dorks. Includes an illustration by fluxchix@tumblr.
Relationships: Darkwing Duck | Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack, Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack
Comments: 1
Kudos: 75





	Remix

**Author's Note:**

> Because of course!
> 
> Many, many thanks to my friend Java (fluxchix) for providing an illustration of the cosplaying couple (included at the end).

Outside, a storm raged, rain pelting mercilessly against the hangar rooftop, shooting thunderous vibrations through the trembling walls. The sky snarled and spit lightning bolts, casting flickering streaks of white light in the dark room. Aside from the angry noises of the elements, it was quiet inside the building.

"Why do brave men flee this shadowed form?"

A shadow darted through a flash of light, disappearing.

"Who is this dark, mysterious figure?" The flashlight switched on, bathing the duck's face in an eerie yellow glow. "Why, it's--" The flashlight died. After a few slaps, it turned back on. "Why--" And it turned back off. The duck sighed. "Okay, just--" The light suddenly hit him in the face, almost blinding him. "It--Nn--He's the mighty mallard menace!"

With a whir and a click, a generator came on, casting a spotlight on the wall. 

"Demolition Duck!"

The duck jumped right into the center of the orb of light, striking an intimidating pose. The notorious fiend of felony was dressed in steel plated black combat boots and matching leather jacket, the shoulders studded with silver spikes over a teal turtleneck tucked neatly under a belt. His eyes burned behind his purple mask, a hand reaching up to pat down his vibrant pink mohawk.

"That's right, it is I, Demolition Duck," Demolition Duck cackled, throwing his head back. He winced, quickly standing upright and fixing his wig into place. "And I've come to St. Canard to spread my evilness across this fine and innocent city! To terrorize its citizens with my dastardly power over the shadows!" He placed a boot on a nearby box, arms akimbo, chest puffed out and visible feathers ruffled. "And there's absolutely no one who can stop me!"

Demolition Duck grinned as the storm raged outside. After a moment of silence, his smile started to wane. "I said," he cleared his throat, raising his voice, "and there's absolutely no one who can--"

Purple gas erupted from across the hangar. Demolition Duck yelped.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night!" A dark silhouette appeared in the cloud of gas. "I am the fingernail that scrapes across the blackboard of your soul!" The figure spread his massive cape, the gas parting obediently. "I am Darkwing Duck!" the tall and very broad chested masked duck bellowed.

Demolition Duck beamed. "Oh, a classic! Good one!"

Darkwing Duck giggled. "Yeah, that one's a favorite."

Demolition Duck shook his head, putting on a serious face. "Darkwing Duck, huh? I fear nothing and no one! You cannot stop me, you righteous right hand of the law!" he snarled.

"Oh no?" Darkwing smirked, tipping back his wide brim hat. "You really _must_ be new in town. Because..." He paused, reaching into his jacket and taking out a piece of paper. He read the words aloud in a stilted voice: "Because then you would know that I am--insert smug, superior but one hundred percent valid laughter here--ha ha ha--St. Canard's merciless and undefeatable guardian of justice."

"Is that so?" Demolition Duck snorted. "Let's see if you can withstand the might and raw brutality of my loyal..." He stepped aside, hands raised to cast a monstrous shadow puppet in the spotlight. "Hellish Hellbeast of Hell!"

Darkwing gasped. "Oh no! A giant mutant rabbit!"

Demolition Duck whispered, "Wolf, it's--it's suppose to be a wolf."

"Right! That makes much more sense! Oh no! A giant mutant wolf!" Darkwing stepped back, cloaking his cape around himself. "But no matter! I've fought monsters twice that size and twice as mean. Why, that's nothing but a puppy to me!"

"Then fight him, O mighty muscled warrior!" Demolition Duck guffawed. "But just know, I have a hostage! They are hidden behind that giant crate over there!" He tucked his head into his jacket, crying in a small voice, "Oh nooo, Darkwing, my beloved, saaaaave me!" Demolition Duck snapped his head back up, laughing. "No one can save you, poor defenseless civilian!"

Darkwing growled, teeth clenched. "How dare you harm one of St. Canard's beautiful children!" he shouted. "Besides! I know there's no Hellbeast! You may have fooled everyone else, but that monster wolf of yours is only a _shadow_!" He pointed at the villain's hands.

Demolition Duck cursed, fists raised. "Damn you! You're so smart, you saw right through my dark magic!" he screeched. "Still! No matter!" He whipped out an orange and red plastic water gun from his jacket. "This is the end for you, Dorkwing Dork!"

"I hate that nickname, it's so demeaning!" Darkwing cried.

Demolition Duck fired the gun, squirting out a limp line of water. Darkwing jumped back, grasping at his chest as if he'd been hit by a bullet. He swayed, falling to a knee. 

"Hoho!" Demolition Duck cackled. "Not even you are immune to--"

"Nngh! The pain! I'm dying!" Darkwing wailed, clutching and tugging at his jacket. He reached a shaky hand for the skies. "Duck Lord and personal best friend of Darkwing Duck, please spare me so I may fight crime another day! Oh, the pain! It's too much! I'm really dying! Aaahh! Ou!"

Demolition Duck blinked, lowering the gun. "Oh!" He snapped his fingers. "Improv, okay-- No one can save you now, not even--"

"My heart! She's giving out!" Darkwing gagged. "This is it! This is the end! I can see the light! I'm coming, mother! I've fought so hard, have I not finally won your approval? Please embrace your son once more!"

Demolition Duck frowned. "Oh, that... that's a bit--"

"And!" Darkwing released one final strangled gasp for air. "I'm dead." Eyes crossed and tongue hanging from the corner of his beak, the hero collapsed on the work bench, going absolutely still.

Demolition Duck waited. A second passed then another and another. "Well, that certainly was a surprise," he said, a little confused, "but surely, the mighty mallard Darkwing Duck doesn't die so easily!" He waited another three seconds. "Not... so... Nnno..." He lowered his head and stepped forward. "Hey, LP," he murmured, "are you--"

Darkwing leaped back onto his feet, spreading his cape. "Haha! Totally got you!" he laughed.

Demolition Duck gasped for a whole thirty seconds, recoiling. "You got me! You little punk! You're so cool!" With a snarl, he turned his gun at the crate. "But if you try doing that awesome trick again, I'll kill my hostage!" Demolition Duck pulled his coat up over his beak, glaring hatefully at Darkwing as a frightened, muffled voice sobbed, "I don't want to die! Save me, my handsome hunk of the night!"

"I'll save you, my love, my dove, my light from above!" Darkwing took out his gas gun, pointing it at the criminal. "This is my tranquilizer grenade gun! It fires grenades that knock people out with powerful tranquilizers! It's not my gas gun!"

Demolition Duck sneered, showing rows of pearly teeth. "Well, then," he chortled sinisterly, "let's see who fires the fast--"

Darkwing pretended to pull the trigger. "Pew!"

Demolition Duck screamed and threw himself back against the wall. "Damn you, Darkwing Duck! Your gadgets are just too powerful!" He dropped his water gun. "That explosion--this gas-- I'm-- I'm falling asleep-- can't! Stay! Awake!" He slowly slid down the wall, eyes lidded. "Curse," he yawned, weakly shaking a fist, "yoooou..." He flopped onto his side, snoring.

Darkwing Duck posed, hands on his hips, rumbling thunder applauding him. "As expected, Darkwing Duck thwarts yet another lawbreaker and saves the day!" he exclaimed proudly.

Demolition Duck crawled out from the spotlight and behind the crate. "Darkwing Duck! That was amazing!" The leather jacket, mohawk, boots, mask, and belt were thrown over the box. "I can't thank you enough! Just... give me... one more--" The duck reemerged, now wearing an oversized brown coat, teal turtleneck, and baseball cap way too big for his head. He swooned, bending back a leg. "My hero!"

Darkwing jumped from the desk, winced as he tripped before standing again. "Drake McQuack!" Darkwing cried, arms spread. "My love!"

The two ran to one another in deliberate slow motion.

"Daaaarkwiiiiing..."

"My loooooove..."

After a full minute of awkwardly silent slow motion, the two resumed normal speed and met in the middle of the room. Darkwing swooped Drake up into a hug, lifting him off the ground and spinning him in the air. Drake laughed, took Darkwing's face in his hands and kissed him passionately. 

Launchpad huffed as he fell back on the air mattress, taking Drake down with him. Drake stretched out on his chest, plucked off his hat. "Did you have fun?" he asked, smiling.

"It was great!" Launchpad laughed. "I'm surprised this old thing still fits me. I haven't LARPed in a long time."

"As a semi-professional and former actor," Drake said, fingering one of Launchpad's suit buttons, "with a little more work, you'd make a flawless Darkwing Duck."

Launchpad blushed. "Nah," he said, "I like being just big ol' Launchpad. Besides." He tugged his hat on Drake's head over the mallard's face. "We already got a great Darkwing."

Drake chuckled, sitting up and straddling Launchpad's waist. "Well, I've been practicing for a while now," he said, thumbing back the cap. "And I've got a lot of help and support to keep me going." He winked.

Launchpad grinned. "Yanno," he said, eyeing the smaller duck, "you look good in my clothes."

Drake held up his arms hidden in the sleeves. "I think this coat miiiight be a bit too big for me," he snickered. Drake pulled the jacket closed, wiggling. "It's super comfy, though. But the hat... Yeah, I'm not sure I can pull this off." He pushed the hat back, only for it to slip over his face again.

Launchpad smiled sheepishly. "I dunno," he said, "s'kind of cute."

Drake smirked. "Now you." He hooked a finger inside Launchpad's turtleneck, pulled him up to meet the mallard half-way. "Look downright sexy in my costume."

Launchpad gulped. "W-Well, your Demolition Duck w-was super neat. You won first place in a costume contest with that outfit, right?" he tittered. "I only got s-second place for my costume."

"Sure did, but you deserved gold," Drake purred, nuzzling his beak against the larger duck's cheek. He suddenly sat up, snapping his fingers. "Oh! Speaking of! For defeating Demolition Duck, you need to be properly rewarded."

"But Darkwing doesn't take rewards?"

Drake leered. "Maybe he'll make an exception for me," he purred, threading fingers through Launchpad's hair. "His love, his dove, his light from above."

Launchpad chewed his bottom bill. "Well..." He looked aside, fidgeting beneath his partner. "I guess... One time won't hurt..." he smirked. His hands on Drake's hips squeezed and he pulled the duck flush against him into a kiss. Drake snickered against his beak, fingers kneading at the plumage down the back of his neck.

It was a slow and deep kiss, their absolute favorite. Wildly passionate was great and all, but these kisses tended to last and linger longer. Launchpad snaked a hand beneath Drake's clothes and down his back, grabbing a fistful of his tail. Drake's head dropped back with a moan, allowing Launchpad to groom his throat with little nips and kisses.

Drake kissed a corner of Launchpad's mouth. "Should get undressed," he purred, licking the edge of his partner's bill, "don't wanna make a mess of your clothes."

Launchpad massaged the base of Drake's tail, earning another little whimper. "Nah," he breathed, "s'fine." He didn't want to admit he found Drake absolutely beautiful in his clothes. A rush tickled down his spine and he held the smaller duck tightly. Maybe it'd sound too weird, telling Drake he wanted to make love to him in his coat.

Drake, on the other hand, was not nearly as articulate. "I want you to raw me until I'm a sobbing, limp mess, absolutely boneless in your arms as you take me over and over again," Drake said casually, rubbing cheek to cheek with his partner, an ever so sweet little smile on his beak.

Launchpad's eyes popped open, and he swallowed audibly. "O-Oh," he chuckled, "y-yeah, I can--I can do that." 

Drake stopped preening Launchpad's throat. "... Um," he coughed, "I did it again. S-Sorry."

Launchpad held Drake as he rolled over, flipping the mallard onto his back beneath him. Drake gasped, face flushed a bright pink. The coat spread out beneath him like a blanket, and Launchpad could only shiver and stare in awe for a few seconds. Before Drake could reach up to stroke his face, Launchpad slid his hands beneath the teal shirt, pawing needily as he took Drake into a kiss.

Drake understood. He tried not to break the kiss (failed, but only for a brief split second or two) as he shuffled out of the coat. He held up his arms, letting Launchpad hurriedly peel the turtleneck off of him and toss it aside. With a graceful sweep, Drake was back in the brown coat, hugging Launchpad around the neck and using him to sit up and deepen the kiss.

Launchpad moaned, regretfully breaking the kiss. "H-Hold on, okay? Just--just hold on real quick!" He scrambled and stumbled off his partner, running back to the work desk. Practically yanking out shelves and knocking things over before finally finding the small bottle of lube. Drake chuckled, took Launchpad by his free hand and guided him back down, resuming the kiss.

Launchpad blindly flipped open the bottle, squirting the lube all over his hand and wetting some of Drake's white feathers. His cape poured around them as he laid Drake all the way back, hand sliding beneath his tail, wet fingers gently circling and pressing against his entrance.

Drake gasped into Launchpad's mouth, only for Launchpad to grab his tongue between his teeth and playfully suckle on it. Drake dug his fingers into his partner's back, the cape cool and silky. The edge of one large finger slowly pushed inside the ring of muscle, and Drake took deep breaths, willing himself open.

Launchpad was patient and delicate. He gently guided Drake onto his back with a light butt of his forehead to his chin, kissing the plumage along his throat. As Launchpad continued working his finger inside, inch by inch, he buried his bill in Drake's chest, trembling as it rose and fell. He preened the area, kissing the warm flesh beneath the erect feathers. His one hand slid up Drake's belly, stroking his hip up and down, up and down.

Drake whimpered, panting. He wriggled, getting as comfortable as possible. Relaxing enough to take Launchpad's finger to the knuckle. Launchpad gave him a moment to rest and prepare himself before he started spreading, gently and with the utmost care tugging and prying him open. Drake hooked one leg up over the larger duck's back, arching off the ground and burying Launchpad's face into his chest. Rocking enough so his feathers caressed against Launchpad's bill and cheeks.

Drake's head was spinning, the coat spilling from his shoulders. His hands hidden in the sleeves, he grasped at the cape, dragged his fingers through messy hair. His hips twitched as he started moving on his own, ever so slightly bouncing on the finger now seated inside of him. Launchpad encouraged him with more kisses and gentle nibbles on his feathers. Drake cracked open an eye, spotted the discarded bottle of lube; he picked it up, emptying the rest on his free hand. Straining a little, he reached down between their bodies, fingers dripping with the translucent liquid and gripping Launchpad's cock.

Launchpad stiffened immediately, almost pulling back. Drake comforted him with a bite to the shoulder, soaking the purple jacket with drool. Launchpad gulped, eyes glazed as his partner's smaller hand worked his shaft, pumping it in a tortuously slow pace. Drake pulled his hand back, smeared with beads of precum; Launchpad watched as Drake dipped his fingers in his beak, licking away the white seed. Launchpad suddenly felt very faint, all the blood immediately rushing to his groin.

Drake leered. Truthfully, he wanted to turn his head and spit. The lube tasted disgusting, definitely not for consumption. But coughing and gagging would only ruin the mood, and Drake could feel through the finger spreading him open that Launchpad was enjoying the show.

Drake pulled the jacket back up, wiping his sticky hand off on the fluffy collar. Probably not the polite thing to do, but everything was going to be washed afterward anyway. Launchpad smiled, chastely kissing Drake's forehead, his few fluffed head feathers. Without a word, completely naturally, Launchpad sat back, bringing Drake along.

Drake's legs quivered as he went onto his knees, boxing Launchpad between him. Hands on his partner's shoulders, Launchpad helped to adjust him and, carefully, lowered him. Drake sucked in air, held it as he took the first inch; kept holding his breath as he took a few more. It burned still, but only just a little. Finally, seated half on Launchpad's cock, Drake stopped and let go, gasping. He took another heaving gulp of air, looked Launchpad in the eyes, and nodded.

Launchpad crooned as he started thrusting. Drake was perfectly tight around him, muscles clenching and spasming in turns. With a few more strokes, he'd be completely pliant. Drake kept his legs spread, providing the larger duck with more access. His arms wrapped around Launchpad's chest and beneath the cape.

Launchpad couldn't see Drake's face, occasionally bowing his head to nuzzle and preen the feathers. Drake would look up and kiss him until one or both their necks would start to ache. Drake broke the kiss this time, drawing back a hand to slowly unbutton Launchpad's Darkwing jacket. He opened it, just as Launchpad finally buried himself to the hilt inside him for the first time. Drake yelped, biting down on his partner's turtleneck. Both of them froze, coming down little by little, until Launchpad could comfortably resume thrusting.

Drake pushed up Launchpad's undershirt, humming as he ground his cheek against pristine white chest feathers. Launchpad purred and nipped at one curly head feather in response. Drake scraped the edge of his bill under Launchpad's chin, beckoning him to lower his head for another light and short kiss.

Launchpad folded Drake up in his arms, laying him back so they were almost face to face, thrusting into his partner from a new angle. Drake dug his heels into his partner's lower back, pressing his legs hard against his hips. Drake cupped one side of his face, stroking feathers while kissing him. His free hand groped at his own erection, gripping it in hand and tugging. When he gasped, Launchpad's tongue drove so deep into his mouth, Drake nearly choked.

Launchpad raking his fingers along the back of Drake's--his--jacket. As he kneaded the plumage on his head, Drake's panting grew louder by the second. He groaned, teeth grit and grinding; with a few more jerks of his cock, the smaller duck came with a cry, throwing himself against Launchpad and clinging tightly. He'd apologize later for getting his cum all over Launchpad's homemade Darkwing Duck suit.

"Almost t-there."

"Take your time. It's f-fine."

"Hey, I love you."

Drake smiled tiredly. "Hey you," he chuckled, kissing the tip of Launchpad's beak, "I love y-you, too."

Launchpad beamed, taking Drake's tail and pulling on it. Drake yelped and writhed in his arms, ass clenching down on Launchpad's cock. Just enough to shoot that heat right through him; Launchpad's eyes rolled back, vision going pure white as he came. Pumping every last bit of his orgasm inside his partner. Drake moaned and shivered, bouncing against his dick.

With one last gasp, Launchpad wilted and sighed. They remained in place, holding one another in their tired, sore arms. Launchpad laid Drake down, smoothing down the feathers he'd clumsily licked and nibbled back into place along his chest. Grunting, he pulled his flaccid cock out, blushing at the small whimper Drake made. Cum dribbled and spilled free, soaking into the jacket and down Drake's thighs.

Launchpad sat back, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry I wasn't able to break you down into a p-pleading mess on my... you know," he coughed dryly.

Drake moaned, hands covering his face. "N-No, that's... Let's pretend I n-never said that."

"Sure!" A pause. "But, yanno, i-if in the future... if you wanna t-try again..."

Drake was quiet. "... Yeah, maybe."

Launchpad smirked. "Well, I had fun tonight. Did you have fun tonight?"

"Absolutely." Drake reached out a hand, and Launchpad instantly took it, squeezing. "We need to do this again some time. And, hey." He winked. "Maybe I'll break out my Liquidator costume. Sure lot of tight fitting spandex and all... Darkwing Duck may just meet his match then."

Launchpad gulped, felt another shiver run down his spine. "Babe," he said, bowing down, "that would be _so cool_." He kissed Drake, the mallard chuckling warmly against his beak as he hugged him.

Suddenly, something in Launchpad's jacket pocket started ringing and vibrating. Drake sat up, raising a finger to Launchpad as he took out the cellphone. He answered it with a cheerful: "Heya, Gos! How's--"

"Are you guys done LARPing at the hide out?" Gosalyn whined, loud enough that even Launchpad could hear. "Miss Gordia won't stop yapping about her grandkids and trying to braid my hair!"

Drake cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Uh, yes, LP and I are just finishing up, uh, repairing the Thunderquack."

"Yeah, sure, okay."

"We'll be home soon! Just listen to Miss Gordia and let her braid your hair," Drake said. "Did you finish your homework?"

"Yesss, ugh! Hurry up! Play dress up when I'm at school or whatever..."

"Gos?"

"Bye love you guys _mwah_!"

Drake hung up, groaning. "She's onto us."

"She's a sharp kid," Launchpad chuckled.

Drake scowled, only to smile and shake his head. "A little smart aleck is what she is." He chuckled, standing and kissing his sitting partner on the forehead. "All right, let's get changed and wash up before she calls back and makes us feel like big old dorks again."

Launchpad laughed. "Sure thing, DW!" He picked Drake up, sitting him in his arms. "Dorkwing, that is!"

Drake rolled his eyes. "So demeaning," he snorted and pecked Launchpad's beak with a kiss.

  
By [fluxchix](https://fluxchix.tumblr.com/)


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